


Crane's Legs

by Apple_Fairy



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-03
Updated: 2013-12-03
Packaged: 2018-01-03 09:59:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1069138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apple_Fairy/pseuds/Apple_Fairy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the war and after repairing their relationship, Arthur watches over Kiku as he recovers. And when Kiku decides to go outside after so much time, Arthur joins him and muses on their relationship, what has happened, and the perfect thing to say.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crane's Legs

**Author's Note:**

> Reposted from Tumblr. This fic was originally written for a class with some things changed here and there. Thought it was about time to post it here. Something sentimental.

Looking at him now Arthur was reminded of a crane’s long legs.

Sometime ago (a time Arthur felt was decades ago as if the tragedy had aged it) Kiku had told him about Japanese cranes. Kiku had pointed them out to him in one of his literary books, and told him about the pure white necks and thin legs. Their symbolism and beauty, but what Arthur remembered the most was the dancing. He was always so fascinated how nature wrote its own love stories. He suggested to Kiku that maybe one day they could watch the courtship, and Kiku had smiled politely and, without any seriousness, promised him that perhaps someday. Someday they could watch the cranes.

Back then Arthur was madly in love and those simple words had sent him soaring for days.

And now as he watched Kiku struggle to stand he was still in love. But the war had taken the love’s color and splendor, and now it was muted but wise. He knew why Kiku struggled, for he had of course known what war could do to people like them. It was a necessary evil and constant struggle. It was just a part of who they were and there was always someone who lost more than the other side. Sometimes there was a winner and a loser. Sometimes no one ever won at all. And looking at him now Arthur felt like he’d lost something too, something that had nothing to do with politics or land or human lives and morals. However, time had passed since then and despite his concern Kiku told him today he wanted to go for a walk.

Arthur understood. At first his heart had panicked and worried but he told himself he needed to do this. He could do this. When Kiku had mentioned it, Arthur did not object. All he did was nod and say “Let me get your coat.”

Arthur watched Kiku’s shaky, thin legs and thought of cranes.

When he was standing Kiku smiled weakly at him. Arthur opened the door, and the sunlight fell upon him. When did he get so pale?

Kiku did not grab his hand. He was too busy holding a cane, steadying himself. However they walked side by side and they believed that was enough. He was very slow. Each step he struggled through and Arthur made sure to match his speed. He tried to think up something to say. He wanted to say something.

_You’re the strongest person I know._

_You’re so wonderful right now._

_I love you._

He shot down all his options, because it was too obvious and melodramatic and Kiku would surely laugh at him. Arthur refused to resort to the cheap, default phrases. His comfort would not be worth pennies. His had to be special, he told himself.

“Pleasant weather, isn’t it?” He instead asked, subsequently cursing himself afterwards. People that talked about the weather were people who had nothing to say, he believed. He was doing this all _wrong-_

“It is.” Kiku spoke, and for some reason Arthur was surprised to hear it. As if it had been ages since he heard it, as if Kiku was rising from below the sea and learning to breathe again.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve been out,” He continued, his tone becoming light and laughing, “So I’m happy that we have good weather today.”

The neighborhood was quiet. They walked in the early morning hours and far off they could hear birds bidding them good morning.

Arthur did not stare at Kiku; instead he stole constant glances to assure himself he was okay and not in pain.

As Kiku struggled to walk, Arthur walked on eggshells.

The worry was persistent and buzzed at the back of his brain for he saw Kiku’s hand on his cane, the bony wrist like the thin breakable grip on a teacup. He could see the shaking legs from the corner of his eye. He took notice of the dark circles under Kiku’s once warm eyes. It was like looking at a wilted flower and the sun did not provide it warmth; instead it only served to light all his flaws and sickness for the world to see.

The coat was too large for him. Arthur remembered a time it fit him well.

_I should say something._

He gulped.

_I should say something perfect._

He wanted to offer Kiku something special and profound. A string of words that fit together perfectly like the pieces of a puzzle, something that could take Kiku’s breath away and make everything better. That would mark the beginning of not only his recovery but theirs. As a couple facing a struggle, that knew they would overcome it. He wanted to say something perfect. He wanted to give him the best.

He envied cranes. Their beautiful dance was all instinct with no forced effort. If only perfect words could be as quick and easy for him.

Over and over potential words flitted through his mind and he dismissed all of them. None of them were good enough in his eyes. Not good enough for his dark-haired Kiku, the quite, composed beautiful man he had fallen for so long ago. He wanted to astound him. Arthur wanted something ripped straight out of the clichéd and romantic movies he had always hated.

They continued to walk in silence. The morning air felt chilly and crisp. The setting was perfect, only the script was missing.

“Kiku.” He began to say, thinking that if he got a running start perhaps it would come to him. Kiku looked over to him, slowly, and he didn’t mind. With everything that had happened Arthur’s patience had strengthened; he didn’t mind.

“Yes?”

The spotlight was on him now. Clumsy, worried man that wished he had an ounce of the talent some of writers or artists had so that maybe he would be good at this. Finally looking at him and taking in his image, he thought of winter. Cold, bitter winter that bit into the living mercilessly, and yet here he was. With wings spread outward and brittle limbs working their hardest. Here he was, just like the cranes.

“You know, one day,” he blurted out, “we’ll be dancing.”

Silence.

Kiku smiled, amused. Happy.

“What are you talking about?” He asked, incredulous, partly chuckling. Arthur felt his cheeks heat up, but also the tug of a smile on his cheeks. Kiku had smiled so warmly. It had been weeks since he last smiled so well. He counted this a victory in and of itself, and was content.

“I-I mean the cranes…”

“What about cranes?”

“I love you, you know.”

Kiku’s smile widened. “I know. I’ve known for awhile.”

It was like a light was lit in Arthur’s heart. Perhaps they didn’t need profound words. Maybe they had everything they needed from the start. He placed a comforting hand on Kiku’s weak back and felt him lean into it. It would take time, he knew. Everything did. But Kiku told him that when he feels a bit better that they could take a vacation to the mountains in the winter.

He promised him they could go see the cranes.


End file.
